


Pulse

by Anonymous



Series: Pack Disasters [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alpha Peter Parker, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harley Keener, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Im gonna make that a tag i swear, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Harley Keener, Smut, Top Peter Parker, im gonna make that a tag too, not rlly underage implied, theyre seniors in hs do w that what u will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26917399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Harley suddenly hunches in on himself, another cramp hitting him full force. He groans and thunks his head against the table, trying to hold his breath through it so he doesn’t jostle himself.Peter rubs a hand on his back, and the motion abruptly makes Harley arch.Peter pauses, eyes widening as a thought occurs to him. New season… Harley’s heats time into the seasonal cycle. He catches Harley’s warm apple scent spike, and gulps.-Otherwise known as: Time flies and the boys forget about Harley's heat cycle.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Pack Disasters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963996
Comments: 8
Kudos: 249
Collections: Anonymous





	Pulse

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm actually posting this HELP 
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE: Consent contracts in regards to sex are a huge fucking nono in real life! Don't pull a 50 shades, you heckers. I'm serious. Consent forms in our little abo universe here haven't been explained in detail- but they're basically something important discussed between the pack Omega and the couple who want to spend their heat together. The Omega has to approve, and they have official forms to sign as documentation that the omega wasn't forced into unwanted contact with another partner. In this case, Tony is the pack Omega, and Peter and Harley are part of his pack. 
> 
> Beta-ed by the fantastic Peachy. Legit they're the only reason this exists. Thank you, peachy <3

“Coffee?” 

“Christ, I love you.” 

Peter beams, passing a (newly in season) iced pumpkin spice latte to his boyfriend. Harley presses a kiss to his cheek, before slurping at his drink happily and lacing their fingers together. 

Autumn has just rolled around the corner, and while Peter may be more of a winter person, Harley was loving it. Harley has already decorated Mr. Stark’s lab, his guest room at the tower, his home’s front porch, and his phone’s wallpaper Halloween style. He even snuck a little skull shaped candle in Peter’s own room at Aunt May’s, which Peter had fondly rolled his eyes at upon noticing. 

In true northern fashion though, New York got cold pretty quickly. Peter was thoroughly enjoying wearing Harley’s Debate Team sweater, and he enjoyed seeing Harley wearing Peter’s own letterman jacket. 

Peter had finally given into trying sports during Sophomore year, after learning that he just has too much energy from sitting at school all day to properly get tired. He would return home from patrol _still_ jittery and excitable, not falling asleep until two in the morning. He ended up excelling at football, soccer, and baseball. He avoided track like the plague. Superhero or not, being on the track team will always sound like hell. 

A few alphas pass by them as they stop by Harley’s first class, eyeballing Harley on their way into the classroom. Peter frowns, furrowing his brows, but Harley snaps his fingers in front of his face. 

Harley’s smirking, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Eyes over here, Parker. Where’s my goodbye kiss, huh?” 

Peter grins, all thoughts about the other Alphas forgotten. “Alright, you baby. I _guess_ I’ll give you a kiss. You owe me, though.” 

Harley hums happily, leaning into Peter as he pecks his lips softly. “Anything,” he answers. 

“I’ll take you up on that.” Peter grins, kissing him one last time before jogging backwards down the hall. “See you at lunch, Keener.”

“See you, Parker!” Harley waves, before ducking into the classroom. 

Peter’s smiling like a sap all the way to his English class. 

* * *

Harley buries his head in his arms, suffering through yet another cramp with near-invisible twitches. His day had started off pretty damn perfect, all things considering. 

Peter bought him an autumnal drink, Harley flirted with him the entire way to school and got him to blush five times, and Tony had actually gotten sleep the night before and woke up in a chipper enough mood to make crepes for breakfast. The school was also buzzing with excited energy as Homecoming week, spirit week, and Halloween approaches. It was a perfect atmosphere. 

Except, somewhere around his second period class, Harley started feeling uncomfortably warm. 

It didn’t make any sense. It was at least fifty degrees outside, and only a little bit warmer inside the building. The cramps started to hit in third period, and now here Harley sits, in his fifth period, watching the clock slowly tick closer towards his lunch period. He can’t wait to see Peter. 

God, Peter. 

Another cramp hits, stronger this time, and Harley muscles through it with barely concealed pained gasps. 

Harley blinks slowly at his math assignment. He usually would have finished by now, but for some reason, the words and numbers aren’t really processing. He scowls, shoving the paper in his binder. He’ll deal with that later. Or tomorrow morning. 

The bell rings, and Harley barely resists the temptation to haul ass out of the classroom like a madman. Instead, he quickly shoulders on his bag, and shuffles out a little bit behind his classmates. 

He weaves through the crowds of students to the cafeteria, not bothering to apologize to those he runs into. His eyes dart around, looking for his group of friends so he can just sit down before he gets another cramp. 

He catches onto Peter’s fluffy brown curls, and smiles widely. Harley’s half-way to their table before an alpha pushes in front of him, blocking his path. 

Harley frowns, and tries to go around, but they still block him. He sighs, tilting his head up in exasperation, before crossing his arms and glaring at them. “You have ten seconds to get out of my way before I kick your ass.” 

“Harley, right?” The alpha continues as if Harley never spoke, smiling lazily. Harley recognizes him as the Cheerleading coaches’ son, Julian. His hands are tucked into his pockets, pheromones a bit stronger than what they should be. “You should sit with me. You know how bad I am at engineering, I have a robotics project I need help on.” 

“We literally go to a STEM school, Jules. You can’t possibly be bad at engineering.” Harley points out. “If you are, I ain’t the person to go to. I’m a terrible tutor.” He tries again to step out of the way, only for Julian to block him again. 

A smaller, more primal part of Harley (the one he usually squishes) makes him want to back down. Instinct flutters anxiously in his chest, despite his outward expression seeming to look more annoyed than afraid. 

“Jules-” 

“Come now Harley,” Julian murmurs, hints of Alpha Voice seeping through his words. He steps closer to Harley, who backs away. “Come help, yeah?” 

Harley’s mind threatens to give, before it abruptly clears when he hears a throat clearing behind Julian. He huffs softly in relief, shouldering past him to go stand beside Peter. Peter narrows his eyes at Julian, before grabbing Harley’s wrist and tugging him away. 

“Thanks,” Harley mutters. “Usually I can get away, but he used his Voice.” 

Peter makes a disgusted sound, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that, the nerve of him-” 

“Chill, Pete. I’m used to it.” 

Peter emits yet another disgusted noise, finding it revolting how Harley even has to be used to it in the first place. Omegas drew the short end of the stick, but it’s especially male omegas. Male omegas were rare, only a few hundred thousand existing in the world. Male omegas were also targeted for ‘better breeding.’ Even female omegas seemed to not fancy male omegas very much, many considering them fake and broken. 

It made school absolute hell, for Harley. He dealt with creeps often, but someone always had his back. 

Harley sits down heavily at his seat, not even bothering to pull out his lunch. He’s not hungry for some reason. His head was still a little foggy after being manipulated by Julian’s Voice, and he felt weak. He should know better than to trust days that start off great. 

MJ lowers her book from across from them, eyebrows furrowed. Harley watches as she takes a whiff of the air around her, and unconsciously leans a little closer to Harley. 

Peter bristles, and MJ frowns. “Fuck, sorry. It’s just- you smell a little better than you usually do. It’s throwing me off,” she apologizes, rubbing at her temples. 

“Sorry?” Harley offers, shifting a little uncomfortably. 

Peter reaches over and squeezes Harley’s hands, his brown doe eyes shining with concern. “Are you okay, Harls? You look kinda red.” 

“Yeah, sorry.” Harley mumbles. Fuck, he’s so weak for Peter’s big eyes and gentle hands. “Just a little spacy.” 

Harley suddenly hunches in on himself, another cramp hitting him full force. He groans and thunks his head against the table, trying to hold his breath through it so he doesn’t jostle himself. 

Peter rubs a hand on his back, and the motion abruptly makes Harley arch. 

Peter pauses, eyes widening as a thought occurs to him. New season… Harley’s heats time into the seasonal cycle. He catches Harley’s warm apple scent spike, and gulps. 

“Hey, Harley? Can you hear me?” He leans over a little closer to Harley’s ear, not wanting to speak too loudly and overwhelm him. 

Harley grunts in acknowledgement, teeth gritting. 

“We need to call Mr. Stark, Harley. I think you’re-” Peter snaps his jaw shut with a click, catching the footsteps of another alpha approaching their table. 

Peter’s not a really wild Alpha. He’s honestly quite tame, and way more gentle than the average one. In fact, if you are far enough to not catch onto his and Harley’s scents, many mistake _him_ for the omega, and scoff when they figure out he’s actually the alpha. 

They may laugh and tease and jeer, but the truth is, they don’t know Peter. They don’t know Peter is really Spider-Man, with superhuman strength and a glare that can melt steel. They don’t know just how dominant Peter can truly be, how easily he can command crowds with his Voice if he really wanted to. 

That’s how Peter keeps it. That’s how he _likes_ it. But, if there’s something Peter truly can’t stand, it’s others poking and prodding at what’s _his_. No alpha likes that, and Peter doesn’t understand why others fail to realize that it applies to him as much as any other alpha. 

Peter gently presses his palms flat to the table and pushes himself out of his seat. The alpha pauses in front of him, two more lingering behind him. Peter glares, and then _growls_. The noise surprises him, having never growled in his life before. It rumbles up naturally from deep in his chest, threatening those who dare step another foot closer. It startles Harley too, if his slight jump indicated anything. 

“Don’t. Even. Think about it.” Peter warns lowly, his own crisp citrus scent spiking. This may or may not have proven to be a mistake, as Harley’s own scent spikes dangerously high in response. 

“Peter,” Harley murmurs, opening his eyes from where his head rested against his arms. 

They were almost completely clouded over. 

“Not good,” Peter gasps nervously, fumbling with his backpack. He throws it over his shoulders and hoists Harley easily up into his arms. “MJ, take care of Harley’s bag. Bring it to us when I text you the okay.” 

MJ nods firmly, snapping her book shut and grabbing Harley’s bag. 

Peter digs into his pocket, pulling out an earpiece. He sticks it in his ear, rushing to the nurses office. 

“Karen,” he yanks open the door. “Call Tony, tell him Harley’s in heat and we need to get to Harley’s heat room, stat.” 

“Yes, Peter.” Karen responds. She pauses as Peter explains to the nurse their situation, only speaking again when Peter and Harley are settled in a temporary emergency heat room. “ETA four minutes, Peter. You’ll have to swing home, Boss is coming in the suit.” 

“Good,” Peter mumbles. “The sooner Harley can get home, the better.” 

Harley is limp in Peter’s arms, face flushed and breaths escaping in warm, short pants. 

Peter gently brushes Harley’s curls from his face. “Hey baby,” he whispers. 

Harley groans lowly, eyes fluttering open. “Pete,” he pants. “God, this fucking sucks.” 

Peter smiles fondly. “Yeah, I figure. Omega is on his way. He should be here soon.” 

Harley hums quietly, relaxing. “Good. Fucker better be on time, or else I’ll show Morgan his candy stash.” 

“You’ll be doing no such thing,” Tony pokes his head into the heat room. He jerks his chin in a sign for them to stand. “Get a move on, brats. I signed you out.” 

“Oh thank god,” Peter mutters, standing up. He adjusts his hold on his boyfriend, following Tony out the front doors. Tony was walking briskly, so much so that even Peter struggled to keep up. 

“Hold onto him for a sec, I need to get suited.” Tony mutters. He taps his arc reactor, and nanotech immediately envelopes his form. He checks in with Friday, ensuring it was still fine, before holding out his arms. 

“Alrighty,” Tony announces. “Pass the sprout.” 

“This isn’t hot potato, Mr. Stark,” Peter rolls his eyes. 

“Might as well be,” Tony is careful as Peter deposits Harley in his arms, holding on tightly. Harley wrinkles his nose, not liking that he can’t smell his pack Omega through the suit. Tony notices, flipping down his faceplate while he talks to Peter. 

“I’ll get him cozied up in his heat room. You spending time with him on this one?”

Peter barely manages not to squirm under Tony’s piercing eyes, maintaining eye contact like he’s supposed to. “Yeah,” he answers. “Consent forms are on your desk. We signed em like, two weeks ago.” 

Tony nods. “Right. Well, we’ll be off. Try not to get caught on your way home… or distracted. I mean it, kid.” 

Peter lifts his chin. “Yes sir,” he responds dutifully. 

Tony’s eyes soften, and he offers him a smirk and salute before his faceplate activates. He holds Harley closer, before taking off in a flash. 

Peter stands there until he can’t see the suit anymore, before looking around. He spots a few cameras of onlookers, and a steadily approaching news station vehicle. 

‘Just my luck,’ Peter thinks solemnly, sneaking away so he can change into his suit. He’ll have to deal with that later. For now, his omega needs his help. 

* * *

Harley may hate his heat, and the whiny mess it usually reduces him to, but it has its perks. 

For one, nesting is extremely satisfying. He has multiple blankets, a horde of pillows, and some items his family each gifted him. He has one of Mama’s pillows, a pair of Abby’s socks, one of Tony’s hoodies, and one of Peter’s many throw blankets. All of it manages to soothe the itch deep in his core. 

This nest is kind of haphazardly put together, though. Harley’s heat took him by surprise, having completely forgotten to keep track of his schedule. He hasn’t had many heats yet, so he’s still new to the whole thing. He knew he’d mess up at least once, but he just hates that he ended up starting in school. 

Peter was taking a really long time. 

Harley groans quietly, shoving his face in a pillow. This heat is going to kill him. 

By the time Peter’s slipping through his door, Harley’s already out of it. Heat’s thrumming through his body, leaving his skin flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. His body trembles with each breath he takes, and he’s rolling on his back from his side the moment Peter’s scent floods his room. 

Peter’s breath audibly hitches, and after the thump of a backpack hitting the floor, cool hands begin to slide up his thighs. 

Harley watches Peter through glazed blue eyes, chest heaving. “Peter…” 

“Hey baby,” Peter shuffles onto the bed, dragging his knees against the sheets until he’s sitting between Harley’s still boxer-clad hips. He can smell the slick between his legs already, and his mouth dries. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Stark gave me a strangely informational shovel talk.” 

Harley simply wraps his arms around Peter’s shoulders, yanking him down into a searing kiss. 

“Oh, okay-” Peter mumbles against Harley’s lips, obviously startled. He still reciprocates, Harley’s rapidly beating heart pulsing in his ears like bass. Feeling a little bold, he drags Harley’s lower lip between his teeth, relishing in Harley’s choked off gasp. 

Peter pulls away, to fumble with Harley’s boxers, wanting to see all of his omega. Harley’s lips attach to his neck and begin pressing open-mouthed kisses down his collarbones, slender fingers gripping at Peter’s biceps tightly. 

“Fuck, Harls,” Peter whispers. “I can’t focus.” 

“Too bad,” Harley responds, voice soft and lightly pitched. It’s unlike any sound Peter’s ever heard Harley make before, and he finally gives in and simply rips the boxers off. 

“Jesus fuck-” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“Those were my fucking dinosaur boxers, you knothead-” 

“You’re literally in heat, and you’re complaining about me ripping your five dollar dinosaur boxers?” 

Harley squints at him, blue eyes a bit more clear than they were earlier. “They were my lucky pair.” 

“They were in my way,” Peter shoots back, before gripping Harley's hips and dragging him closer to himself. Harley instantly goes limp beneath his fingertips, scent spiking. 

Peter can’t help but smile cheekily. He knows how weak Harley is for being manhandled. 

“Look at you,” Peter breathes, rubbing his hands up-and-down Harley’s thighs. The skin is flushed and peppered in freckles. The freckles travel all the way up his chest and shoulders, and dust across his face like little angels kisses. Harley’s chest is gleaming with sweat, and his eyes once again lose focus. “So pretty, Harley. You know how many alphas want you in our school?” He drifts a hand up, swiping his thumb gently across Harley’s lower lip. “So many. But I’m the lucky one, only I get to see this.” 

Harley parts his lips, pink tongue darting out to press against Peter’s thumb. He wiggles a bit, before spreading his legs and tilting his head, presenting himself fully to the alpha in front of him. 

Peter bites his lip as he’s graced with the sight of Harley’s slick hole, loose from heat and ready to take his knot. “Oh my god,” he whispers shakily. He hesitates, before pressing the tip of his thumb against it. It sinks right in, warm and wet, and Harley jerks. 

“Fuck,” Harley whines. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me-” 

“Not yet, baby.” Peter removes his thumb slowly, wiping off the slick in the sheets. 

Harley whines again, low and instinctual, before finally noticing that Peter has not removed his clothes. His eyes narrow. “Off,” he demands, shifting onto his knees.

“You gonna help me with that?” 

Harley nods eagerly, jaw set in a (kind of cute) fierce determination as he shuffles forward. Peter just sets a gentle hand in Harley’s hair, watching as the blonde begins to tug at his zipper.

Harley tugs Peter’s jeans and boxers down enough for Peter’s cock to spring free, already hard and flushed red. Harley bites his lip, one hand hesitantly wrapping around the base. 

“You did that, omega,” Peter croons, rumbling softly. Harley’s eyes droop, hand tightening slightly. “That’s right,” Peter praises, “you’re such a good omega. Didn’t even have to do anything, just sit there and look pretty.” 

“Alpha,” Harley whines, looking up at him through his lashes. Peter’s heart jumps, and he tightens his grip on Harley’s hair. 

“C’mon, Harls,” Peter urges. 

Harley shifts just a little bit closer, pausing for a moment, before pressing a wet open-mouthed kiss right on the underside of his cock. 

“Fuck, Harley,” Peter gasps, free hand clamping over his mouth automatically. He forces it down at Harley’s disapproving frown. 

“Wanna hear you, Alpha,” Harley says, rubbing a thumb lightly over a vein. “Wanna hear you when I make you feel good.” 

“Okay,” Peter answers breathlessly. “Okay.” 

Harley nods, before licking a wide strip up Peter’s shaft. He moans when the grip on his hair gets tighter, fresh slick dripping down his thighs. He presses a small kiss to the tip, licking off a forming bead of precum, before diving down and taking half of Peter into his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Peter groans, resisting any temptation to buck his hips. “Harley-” 

Harley hums happily around Peter’s cock, enjoying having his mouth full of his alpha. He swallows deliberately, before beginning to suck his cock in earnest. He hollows his cheeks, bobbing his head slowly. 

At this point, they’ve given each other blow jobs several times a month. Peter knows exactly what Harley likes, and Harley knows exactly what Peter likes. They’ve never gone farther than that, but at least this isn’t uncharted territory. 

It’s this that gives Peter the confidence to yank Harley’s head back and begin mercilessly fucking his throat. 

Harley’s hands scramble to grip at Peter’s hips, his pretty blue eyes filling with tears. Peter’s groaning lowly, blending in seamlessly with Harley’s choked whimpers. 

Harley grinds his hips down against the sheets, drool dripping steadily down his chin. He can feel Peter’s knot nudging at his lips at every thrust, the head of his cock bumping steadily against the back of his throat. Peter tugs Harley’s hair again, the sharp pain pulling another cry from him. 

Peter pulls out, allowing Harley time to breathe. His cock rests heavily against Harley’s lower lip, while the hand in his hair loosens and begins to rub lightly at his scalp. 

Harley pants raggedly, taking a moment to collect his thoughts in his heat-induced daze. He makes a clumsy attempt at wiping the drool from his lips, eyeing Peter in front of him. Peter’s usually warm bambi eyes are dark, cheeks pink with arousal. He’s giving Harley a look that sends another wave of _need_ over him, heat pulsing through his body with such intensity that Harley nearly melts right then and there. 

“Peter-” Harley gasps, giving into instinct to lay on his back. His legs spread, and he bares his neck once more. “Knot, knot me, fuck-” 

Peter is stumbling out the last of his clothing and on Harley in seconds, pushing one of Harley’s thighs against his chest while the other leg hooks around his waist. Harley’s absolutely sopping wet, quivering and clenching around nothing. Peter wastes no time pushing the head of his cock against his hole, watching in fascination as Harley opens up around him. 

“That’s so hot,” he mumbles faintly. 

Harley twitches hard beneath him as he’s finally filled, lips parted around a voiceless cry as Peter sinks into him slowly. “Oh god,” he babbles. “Oh god, oh god, alpha-” 

“I got you,” Peter rasps. “Shit, Harls, I got you.” 

Harley whines, high pitched and needy, as Peter finally bottoms out. Peter’s half-full knot is pressing against his entrance, teasing Harley with what’s to come. He has to lay for a moment, breathing slowly and just relishing in the feeling of Peter inside him. 

His body automatically clenches again, and Harley whimpers. 

“Guess that’s a sign,” Peter laughs breathlessly. “You ready?”

Harley blinks rapidly, focusing on Peter’s face. Beneath all the all the lust on his expression and the alpha pheromones pouring out of him, he’s still Harley’s Peter. Sweet, caring, loveable Peter. 

Harley’s heart feels full. 

He sinks back into the bed, yanking Peter closer with the leg he has around his waist. “Knot me, alpha.” He demands. 

“Yes, omega,” Peter breathes. He pulls out about halfway, before thrusting forward experimentally, testing the waters. Harley jerks, more slick gushing out of him from around Peter’s length. 

“Good,” Harley gasps. “More. Fuck me alpha. I don’t want to think anymore.” 

“Yes, omega,” Peter repeats. Harley’s scent is intoxicating, wafting around the heatroom until it’s all Peter is able to smell. His head has been foggy the moment he stepped into the room, and it only grows as time passes on. 

Peter thrusts again, this time harder, relishing in Harley’s choked off moan. Encouraged, he settles into a hard, fast pace, alpha instincts screaming in his mind as he fucks Harley into the bed. 

Harley’s gasping and whimpering, so worked up at that point that he can’t make much more noise than that. His arms are wrapped around Peter’s neck, calloused fingertips digging into his skin. 

His back suddenly arches, startled cry tearing out his throat. “Peter-!” 

“Harls, baby,” Peter moans, pressing his hips deep into that spot again. Harley reaches down, fisting his cock as Peter grinds slow and deep into his prostate. 

“Knot me, knot me, fuck Peter,” Harley chants, clenching hard around where he can feel the alpha’s knot nudging at his hole. He keens unhappily as Peter pulls out, leaving him empty. “Peter?” 

“Roll over,” Peter orders softly, using only the barest hints of his Voice. Harley is on his knees in seconds, chest pressed against the bed and hips in the air for Peter’s view. 

Peter licks his lips, sliding his cock back into Harley’s heat. Harley’s guttural groan is muffled by the blankets, but he wiggles his hips back to coax Peter impossibly deeper. 

“My pretty omega,” Peter praises, beginning to fuck Harley with earnest. “Pretty omega, pretty…” 

Harley’s much too weak to respond or do anything other than take him, fingers curling tightly into the sheets when Peter hits his prostate again. His cock jumps against his stomach, weeping pre all over his sheets. He needs to cum, and he needs to cum _now_.

Peter’s knot begins to catch on his rim, and Harley sobs when he feels it. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, c’mon alpha, c’mon,” Harley’s hips are pushing back, begging for more. HIs entire body is on fire, and he’s so close, so close- 

Peter’s knot slips in one last time and swells, stretching Harley to his limit, and his vision goes white. 

Harley’s wailing, entire body quivering as his hole spasms around Peter’s knot, draining Peter’s knot as much as he possibly could. Cum is splashing up against his stomach, and he can vaguely hear Peter gasping behind him. 

Harley trembles with aftershocks for what feels like hours. He’s gently manipulated onto his side, back pressed against Peter’s chest securely. His skin is still cool, despite their recent activities. 

“F’ck you ‘n your stupid inability t’thermoregulate.” Harley mumbles dazedly. 

Peter’s bright laugh vibrates through Harley’s back, the sound itself tinkling like bells. “Shut up.” 

* * *

“...Peter. Peter, Peter, fuck, wake up-”

“Nnn? Whass’ wrong?”

“Did we use protection?” 

“...fuck."

**Author's Note:**

> :))) 
> 
> Catch you next time. 
> 
> (Not open to constructive criticism at this moment, thanks.)


End file.
